


Where beasts cross

by TehsamMutna



Category: Wiedźmin | The Witcher (Video Game), Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types, Wiedźmin | The Witcher Series - Andrzej Sapkowski
Genre: Blood and Violence, Character Death, Death, Emphasis on Geralt's and Regi's relationship, Gen, Geralt and Regis reunion, Geralt in his element, I needed more Geralt and Regis, I'm Sorry, Investiagtions, Mystery, Sassy Geralt, emotional scenes
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-12-29
Updated: 2018-12-29
Packaged: 2019-09-29 22:40:26
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,954
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17212181
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TehsamMutna/pseuds/TehsamMutna
Summary: All good things come in threes. Several years after the events of Blood and Wine, Geralt is in search of new Witcher-contracts, which take him to Nazair. But this particular contract stands out from any other he had fulfilled before, turning out to be a mystery even to the experienced Witcher: An entire village murdered under peculiar circumstances and without a starting point to investigate. To Geralt’s surprise he soon is reunited with an age-old friend he hadn’t expected to encounter there. Together with Regis, Geralt tries to solve the odd incident but the situation is even more complicated than they had imagined. It seems like they must rely on help from outside, where it still remains to be seen if that aid comes for a certain price. In any case, this time, Geralt has to decide between one evil or another and who he can really trust.





	1. peculiar circumstances

**Author's Note:**

> Hello!  
> I’m very glad you clicked on this piece of writing and I hope you enjoy what I have come up with. This is my first published story and the first story in general to have more than a few little chapters. I will try to update as often as I can! Thank you for reading and I’d be very happy to hear what you think!

With a pull on the reins, Geralt stopped his loyal companion in her tracks and got off her back, dismounting from the saddle. His hand gently stroked the dark brown fur, that felt pleasantly warm due to the direct sunlight heating it up. Leading the mare to the stable of the local inn, he tied his horse to a log.  
“We’ll take a break now. You can rest a little, while I go find this client, alright?”  
Receiving a, what he thought was an agreeing snorting sound, Geralt turned his back to Roach and walked off into the direction where he assumed the Warehouse and the man who looked for a Witcher on the notice board.  
On his way there, the Witcher didn’t miss out on noticing the colourful banners and emblemed shields, carrying the blue rose of Nazair with its purple colour at the tips of each petal. The Guards eyed him sceptically, yet restrained from commenting on his looks or voicing any other derisive note. As he reached his destination, Geralt turned to the man who guarded the entrance.

“Looking for a Witcher, I heard. How can I be of help?”  
The man, short, dark haired and also rather bulky, seemed to size Geralt up before opening his mouth to speak.  
“Yes. We have some kind of creature terrorizing the civilians of the village around here, tearing some of them apart even... You’re not from here, are you Master Witcher?”  
Geralt answered, even if he couldn’t sense why this question was of necessity.  
“No. I’m just passing trough Nazair, looking for some extra work. You seem to have wandered off the point, so if we may talk about the contract?” The raise of one eyebrow underlined his demand, leaving the guard little to no choice of asking further.  
“Uhh, yes, of course. So actually, I have no Idea what it was. That’s your job, isn’t it? Just go down there and see for yourself and make sure the beast gets slaughtered. It’s not my job to explain to a monster hunter how to get rid of a monster”, on that note, the guard obnoxiously spat on the ground, before turning the very little attention he had before, back to his opponent.  
Not expecting any different Information that could be of use, Geralt simply nodded and followed the path leading into the forest, where the incident occurred.

 

* * *

 

“Dried up. Wasn’t too recent.”, rubbing the bordeaux, thick substance between his thumb and index finger, Geralt was squatting next to a demolished barn.

The village held a total of eleven houses, some of them dilapidated and covered in blood. Considering the number of beds, distributed on the number of dead bodies, everyone had been killed or died of internal, maybe additional external injuries. None of them caused by sharp blades. Geralt’s eyes inspected the provisional weapons, laying next to the corpses of their owners.  
“No sign of blood on the metal. Looks like they didn’t defend themselves or didn’t get to do so. It was no ambush as they had time to grab their weapons…”  
Walking towards an approximately fifty-year-old man to get a closer look on him, Geralt already spotted the cause of death from afar.  
“Neck snapped. He died instantly. The creature had no trouble doing so… an intelligent monster it seems.”

The Witcher noticed two of the bodies which stood out from the rest. One of them, a male and about thirty, as his structure of teeth gave away, was explicitly battered. Several organs seemed to peek through the slit open abdominal wall, with severe injuries to them. The facial structure was hard to identify and Geralt couldn’t even tell if the man’s nose was still attached or long gone. Hands, arms, legs and feet. All of them covered in serious bruises and cuts. Inspecting the corpse more precise, Geralt noticed another difference.  
“His neck and spine are still intact, unlike most of the other peasants. Seems like this one suffered a slower, more painful death… Was this intentional?”  
The other body, which didn’t fit into the scheme, was the one of a woman. Also about thirty, maybe even two to four years younger. Her hair was a shiny, light blonde, and reached her shoulders. The eyes, still holding the shock from before her death in them, were a light, icy blue. Her cause of passing seemed to line up with many other corpses: a broken neck. A quick and mild death.  
What baffled Geralt the most, was the way she was positioned on the ground. Her dress was put in place, even noticeably stroked clean. Hands folded over her chest, the woman was holding a bunch of wildflowers. Blue lotus flowers.  
“What the hell happened here…?” Geralt squinted his eyes. Possibly a winged creature? No. The density of the trees and houses, or what was left of them, allowed no possibility of landing on the ground, neither did it provide an opportunity to set down on top of the brittle roofs. Particularly because there was no sign of pressure to spot on them. A fire-spitting beast could also be excluded since there were no traces of fire or ashes anywhere to be seen. Looking around the setting of the massacre, the Witcher had trouble finding any traces on the soil or along the wooden buildings.

“That’s odd. “, crouching down, Geralt crunched his nose in bewilderment. Narrow parts of the ground, next to the housings, seemed to have been walked on frequently, all trampled down. Certain, wider areas showed signs of loosening on the ground, like it was broken up on purpose in the process of getting rid of any footprints.  
“How is the ground this even?” Using his Witcher senses, allowing him to hear, see and smell far more than a normal human ever could, he attempted to find something like a trace. A connection to the rest of the scene and a continuation of his investigation.  
Geralt hesitated as he noticed something peculiar. There was another set of footprints next to the little rest which was left behind. Those footprints seemed to differ in their depth. From what it looked it like, possibly because of heavier equipment and sturdier boots, than the rest of the village had access to.  
Despite several of his observations, and the help of his inhuman abilities, a clearer picture immerged. “A massacred village. Two of the villagers stand out from the mass and no traces are left expect for some, one pair varying in depth. Maybe I’ll come across another starting point after I ask around the city. There is a small chance of witnesses or even relatives being still alive.”

 

* * *

 

As he passed the inn, where Roach was still standing well-behaved and drinking the cool water in the trough, the sun had already prepared to set, painting the sky in a warm orange colour.

A huntsman was about to leave the establishment but stopped in his tracks as he saw the white-haired man with yellow, cat-like eyes. Geralt wasn’t the one having to ask for information, as it appears.  
“Ah. Are you the Witcher they hired because of the massacre?”  
Being spoken to directly, Geralt stopped as well and looked at the man, who appeared less sceptical of the Witcher. “Yes, that’s me. Do you know what happened there?”  
The brown-haired hunter simply shook his head, followed by a sigh.  
“No, sadly not. Even though I’d love for it to be solved as well. Glad to see a professional taking over the situation. It’s a shame. Irlind and Askijel were so young and just got married. Terrible, that such a thing happened in their wedding night. May their souls rest in peace.”  
The man sighed once more and took his hat off as if to mourn.

Geralt nodded, agreeing, and broke the silence after some seconds. “This Irlind. What can you say about her? And Askijel?”  
“Oh well, Irlind was promised to Askijel. An arranged marriage. But the woman didn’t seem to be averted. She was a literal beauty, it is no wonder she was desired by many. Beautiful I tell you, golden hair, pinkish lips and captivating eyes like frozen ponds in winter.”  
Another sigh escaped the man’s lips and Geralt figured that he was also one of those who have desired this very woman.  
“-And her betrothed was someone kind as well. Have met him while hunting several times as he picked flowers for her. A real romantic. Always got her winter cherries, never anything else.”  
As he was taking all the information in, Geralt merely nodded to show that he was listening attentively. “Any hunch about who might have caused the deaths? Seen anyone suspicious?”  
The hunter shook his head. “I have no clue.”

Wanting to thank the man, Geralt was cut off before he could do more than inhale. “Oh, oh, but you could ask the other Witcher.” His confused raise of an eyebrow must’ve signalled the suddenly enthusiastic hunter, that Geralt has no idea who he meant, making the man elaborate further.  
“Another man came here before you did. He looked just like you, but had no white hair. But those uh…”, he circled his index finger around his very eyes before finishing the sentence: “cat-eyes. That means he was also a Witcher right? I don’t know if this is helpful information but he might know which creature was responsible for the incident. He seemed to be wealthy, what means he must’ve taken care of many monsters and fulfilled many contracts too, right? Maybe he could help you out.”

Geralt narrowed his eyes, pulling his eyebrows along in perplexity. “Another Witcher you say? Who was that?”  
The man simply shrugged at that question. “I don’t know. I haven’t talked to him. But he also wore something like you have around your neck. Though his amulet carried a bear”  
“And where can I find this other Witcher?”, Geralt asked, now intrigued.  
“Ah, Master Witcher. I’m a simple Huntsman, not a Sage. But I know that he often visited the local barber. He is also a foreigner. Maybe you should ask him for the Witcher. I’m afraid that’s all I can do for you.”, the man mentioned, pointing towards the way, where the shop is located.  
“Thank you for the help. And good luck with the hunting.”  
Receiving a warm smile from the man, Geralt turned away and walked down the pebbled path, leading to the premise of the said barber.

 

* * *

 

The air has gotten a little colder, feeling refreshing on his face. In the meantime, the sun had almost completely disappeared, inviting the stars and the moon to come out. The guards already ignited the torches around the houses and paths, lanterns were being lit up. Here and there, some prostitutes were approached by men, who were walking home from work or towards the inns.  
It all reminded him of Toussaint. Times where he hurled himself into a contract, that turned out to be an adventure. An adventure he wouldn’t forget too fast, even with time passing. The scars that were left behind as a keepsake, made sure of that.

Encountering an old friend on that venture, he wouldn’t have expected to see again. In fact, he was sure his friend had died. He died in front of his very eyes, long before that time in Toussaint. Thinking back about the time of their first meeting and the many changes their relationship had undergone, made Geralt smile mentally but also sigh. Even after the reunion in Beauclair, he lost his friend once again.  
And yet, he is one of his dearest companions, even if he, from time to time, causing Geralt headaches, acted like the biggest know-it-all. Geralt couldn’t deny the fact that he indeed missed him.  
The Witcher passed a beggar on his way and the memories of his all too altruistic friend enticed him to show some kindness, making him end up leaving the already fast asleep man some money.

 

It took a little while until Geralt found the right house with the correct sign, but there was one thing that caught him of guard.  
On the roof of the housing, several, about twenty, ravens had settled down. Some of them cawing irregularly, the others too busy sleeping or cleaning one’s plumage. Geralt stood there, a little astonished at that sight. Memories came back to his consciousness.  
The Witcher simply shook his head at the ridiculous thought and grabbed the handle of the door to enter the barber-shop. He was met with the scent of various herbs and flowers, an all too familiar scent. The light inside the house was a warm golden tone and came from the numerous candles and candleholders around the room.

One of the three chairs in the middle of the place was occupied by an older man, possibly coming close to being sixty. He wore rather expensive garments and looked well fed, seemingly a wealthy man. That particular person was getting his hair cut by another man, who had his back turned to Geralt, the brown leather bag still in place like it has been before. But the Witcher didn’t have to look into his face to know who that barber was.  
Geralt’s usually so calm nature and face was now filled with bafflement and surprise. He didn’t say anything, nor did he cough to get their attention. He simply leaned back onto a wall and watched the man do his work in a careful and thorough way.  
As the barber began to speak, Geralt had no doubt that this was indeed that man.  
“A little correction here and it’s finished I’d say. I am certain, I can expect you in the course of three weeks like usual, yes?” The client got up from the chair after inspecting his trimmed beard and corrected haircut in a hand mirror, turning to the barber and handing him the arranged sum.  
“Certainly. Well, good night then.”  
The man bowed a little, respectfully, as his last customer turned to leave and his work day seemed to have reached its end.

As he looked up from the floor, his dark eyes got locked onto Geralt’s yellow ones and depicted even more surprise than his opposite across the room.  
“All good things come in threes, heh?” Geralt grinned at his friend after finishing his sentence and nodded towards him as a greeting, receiving a warm smile in return, that turned to a wider and genuine one, as the Vampire’s fangs appeared. Both of them closed in and embraced into a warm hug. As they pulled back, it was Regis who voiced a remark.  
“You’ve aged after I left.”  
The Witcher rose a brow. “How come you noticed right away? Did my wrinkles give it away?”  
“No.”, said Regis “Primary your white hair. But now that you mention the wrinkles.”  
Geralt snorted amused and shook his head in disbelief.  
“Some things don’t change, do they?”


	2. Heading out

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi there! The second chapter was uploaded right after the first because I decided to post it here on Ao3. The first chapter was originally posted on tumblr but I figured it would be easier like this.  
> Nevertheles, I hope you enjoy reading.

A while later, after their reunion, the mutant and his Vampire friend were seated on a couch in the upper level of the housing where Regis lived. Both of them passing a bottle of mandrake liquor, which in fact was still Regis’ speciality.  
“Is the brew still not too strong? Though the recipe hasn’t undergone any changes in the past four years.”, the man handed his friend the, now, half empty bottle and smiled warmly.  
“No. It’s still just right.”, Geralt took a good swig and passed the alcohol back to its owner.

“Tell me. How did you end up here? You’re settled I see.”  
Regis sighed at that question but didn’t try to evade it.  
“It was hard to foresee. I had decided to have a rest from all the journeying and spent an evening in the tavern. I imagine, you’ve visited that establishment as well already?-”, like it was his nature, Regis’ face didn’t even twitch after the not so subtle tease.  
“-Well, I there encountered a man, seemingly ailing from a disease. And as it appears, my offer to give him a suitable potion was gratefully and desperately accepted. Once the man had rested and undergone recovery, he came back to me, requesting for yet another vial of the same medicine for his son, who seemed to lay ill as well. While brewing the needed substances, I had pondered about it and concluded it would be best to stay here, at least for a while, and help people in need out for no pay. I don’t need much. Others demand exorbitant prices for their botched work. Alongside preparing medicine, I also cut hair and tend to wounds. It seems to be something I’ll never lay off.”  
A smile formed on Geralt’s lips, almost unnoticeable, as he got reminded of his friends’ monologues. “Sounds just like you. Always been compassionate towards humans.”

Crunching his nose, Regis also raised a similar question. “What about you? What have you been doing after I left? What have you seen?”  
Eyeing the floor as he thought about it, Geralt softly smiled to himself at the memories, which emerged in his mind. “Left Corvo Bianco after some time. Yennefer pretty much understood. Being settled wasn’t my objective. I am a Witcher after all. To my surprise, I met another ashen haired Witcher on my way, who I accompanied after that.”  
Regis, being aware of the reason Geralt was smiling this fondly, butted in with a question. “Cirilla?” The Witcher nodded, agreeing, as he continued to speak.  
“We took over some contracts together and she really went for it. Like she was born to be a Witcher herself.”  
“Well, like father like daughter.”  
That heartfelt remark only brightened the Witchers smile, that he couldn’t hide from his friend.

“Allow me another question.” Regis looked at his opposite, asking for permission, to what the Witcher simply rose a brow.  
“Go on. You’ll ask anyway.”  
“What are you doing here? Not to be inquisitive but Nazair isn’t exactly the route you’d normally dwell on. So, what lead you here?”  
Geralt recalled what the reason was he even went to see the barber in the first place. “Got me read like a book, don’t you? Decided to expand my working range. I accepted a contract. But something doesn’t add up about it. Rather some things. The whole incident is odd.”  
“Are you speaking of the massacre?”  
One simple nod answered his question.  
“Ah yes, I’ve heard of it. Not much, I have to add to that. Just the regular tales and theories you hear from the people here.”, The Vampire stroked his chin in the process of thinking.  
“Got told you have had another Witcher as a costumer, who could help me out with that. Bear school I think.”  
Geralt leaned back on the couch rest and watched Regis contemplate.  
“I recall, yes. His name is Bagge. I have never asked for his surname. He, indeed, was a member of the bear school as he wore the amulet of a roaring bear. Asking him seems like a good idea. He might have some key insights.”  
Geralt, now curious about the relationship of these two, scooted closer so he won’t miss anything crucial.  
“You know him well?”  
Regis shook his head as an answer. “Not precisely well. But he came here numerous of times. Either to get some herbs for potions or a beard trim. It’s not really a wide range of information I can provide you with, but we have gotten into some conversations. A lively man with remarkable nature. He told me about some of his contracts and how he got to solve them. Fascinating, really. Though, he had a talkativeness to him.”  
A groan from Geralt interrupted him, followed by mumbling that was still loud enough his friend could hear. “Oh, I know another one suitable for this category.”  
A sharp glance of the Vampire, made the Witcher gulp his grin down and raise his brow as if he hadn’t implied anything particular.  
“May I proceed?”, Even though he had noticed his friends ironic remark, Regis added something to his statement.  
“He is itinerant. But I think, I remember him mentioning where he was settled for the time here in Nazair.” Receiving just a little nod as a signal to carry on, the Vampire finished his thought he had voiced loudly.  
“There is a hunting shack outside the city, perhaps worth a look.”  
Geralt rested his elbows on his knees and turned his body to the Vampire across from him. “Thank you, Regis. Will go there tomorrow morning. I should get going now, still need to rent a room while the innkeeper is in a good mood and doesn’t kick mutants like me out. Thanks for the mandrake and the help.”

Getting up to head for the door, the Witcher raised his hand to bid goodbye but was stopped before he could even get to the staircase.  
“Why don’t you rest here? I imagine, my moderate dwelling is far more pleasant than the loudness of the inn, accompanied by the smell of the stables.”  
The Vampire raised one brow as he finished voicing his offer and since Geralt considered it far more appealing than spending the night in an inn, he agreed. Even more because he enjoys the company of his age-old friend.  
“Well then, I won’t decline such generous offer. Thank you, I’d gladly stay here.”  
Regis smiled warmly, once again not concealing his fangs since he was around Geralt. The man points at the sofa they just sat on and motioned that he could sleep there. “Make yourself at home” Geralt smiled back, but leaned against the wall right to him.  
“Would the Vampire be so gracious to spare a blanket?”  
“Only because the Witcher did ask so kindly.”

 

* * *

 

Geralt’s yellow eyes were met by a bright ray of sunlight, illuminating them even more, and simultaneously warming the man, who lay on the sofa. Entangling his limbs from the blanket, he looked around the room.  
He was woken by thud-like sounds coming from another room, making him get up and put on his white cotton undershirt, before equipping the armour he wore on top of it. As he was walking towards the noise, he was already greeted by no one else than the early riser he called his friend. A grin appeared on the man’s face as he saw that Geralt was awake.  
“Ah you’re up from your deep slumber, I see. Good. I was particularly noisy for this very reason. Being aware of the fact you would imminently leave, I have prepared something to eat in advance.”

Geralt followed the gesture of his hand that lead to an already set table. He smelled the scent of various herbs, which were soaked with hot water, ideal for a good breakfast. Geralt rarely ate at a table or in company. In most cases it was a rushed meal in between his contracts or whenever he had the time to do so. So even if the Witcher won’t admit it, he surely appreciated the gesture.  
“What? No mandrake liquor for breakfast? No worries, tea is fine by me as well.”  
Met with a smile, Geralt sat down onto the chair and started to eat the fried eggs topped with, to his missing surprise, some other herbs, while he followed the Vampire with his eyes.  
Regis was walking around, rearranging objects and placing them into bags. His shoulder bag, which was a constant companion of his, also laid on a cupboard, unclosed, for him to fill it with the most essential.  
“Something else about Bagge came to my mind earlier. He mentioned fighting against several monsters, known extinct to mankind. Maybe your case is something similar. Could be a possibility since someone as experienced as you had trouble investigating those circumstances”  
Geralt rose a brow after setting the cup down, doubt lingering in his words.  
“Oh, did he? Which individuals of those long extinct species did he fight against?”  
He got a shrug in return.  
“My apologies but I don’t seem to recall their names.”  
Nodding understandingly, the Witcher finished his meal.

A sigh could be heard as he turned towards the Vampire, who still walked around the room but now seemed to have finished packing the bags.  
“Well. I’m off. Thank you for the hospitality. I’ll make sure to come by before I leave Nazair.”  
Geralt got up, pushing the chair back into its place before nodding a goodbye to Regis.  
“Splendid. Let’s go then. I have finished the needed final preparations.”  
With an utterly confused look on his face, already holding the door open, Geralt turned around to face his friend.  
“What? Where are you going?”  
Regis looked at him as he walked past Geralt and crunched his nose at the question.  
“What a peculiar question you’re asking my friend. I’m certain you already know the answer to it yourself, yet you still asked. I’m accompanying you. Like last time when you risked your life for me, searching for Dettlaff or the time before, where I did so in search of Cirilla. I’m not in the habit of leaving a friend in need.”  
Regis pulled the corners of his mouth upwards as he finished the last sentence, reciting something Geralt once told him, ages ago.

The Vampire must have perceived the passed time like only a few years have gone by compared to Geralt. But both of them remember without a doubt.

  
Regis felt the need to add something to his statement.  
“You have said it yourself. The very first phrase I heard of you yesterday evening. All good things come in threes.”  
Geralt blinked in perplexity but didn’t try to fight him on that, more even because he knows that Regis can protect himself effortlessly and trying to convince him from staying would be nothing but a waste of time.  
“What about your costumers? You have a shop to run.”  
With a swift hand movement, Regis turned the sign on his door to ‘closed’ and carried on walking. “They will have to wait. Let’s just hope their beards don’t grow too fast to reach their knees before we return.”  
Shaking his head in disbelief, the Witcher followed his friend, now companion, and tried to contain a grin as he saw what the faithful mount of the Vampire was.  
“You still prefer those donkeys.”  
“And your preference for sorceresses didn’t wane either, I see.”  
Geralt tilted his head in defeat and petted the donkey gently before looking up at its owner.  
Telling Regis, that he will get Roach from the inn, both of them agreed on a place to meet. At the nearest junction, where the path forks into the forest.

 

* * *

 

The two of them met not long after parting ways. Regis was the one to have been there first but Geralt didn’t keep him waiting for too long either. Roach neighed happily as she remembered the vampiric friend of her owner, receiving a carrot as a warm greeting. Geralt smiled at the gesture but told his friend that if he continues to treat his horse this way, it will most likely change owners.

The group of four rode together for a little while, exchanging stories. In reality it was Regis who was talking the most and Geralt was the audience. It was nothing new to him. He was aware of the fact, that his friend likes to talk and most importantly lecture but he didn’t stop him from doing so. In fact, the Witcher was listening thoroughly to every word his companion was speaking.  
Warming their backs, the sun draped the surroundings in a veil of light. The trees of the forest they were passing seemed to be old and wise, speaking in hushed whispers as the wind rushed through their branches, leaving them swaying gently. It was a nice and somewhat calming view. The sound of leaves dancing in the wind, the hooves meeting the uneven ground and Regis talking were the main sounds Geralt heard, sometimes accompanied by the buzzing of bees or chatter of birds. The Witcher enjoyed these moments and it felt different but most certainly not worse to have somebody by his side. Somebody who doesn’t only neigh when you talk to them.

 

“How much further is the shack?”  
Geralt turned to Regis as he asked that.  
“Not too far. It will, in all probability, only take several more minutes.”  
Nodding understandingly, Geralt rode on alongside Regis until the Vampire stopped and pointed at a rather frugal housing in the distance growing bigger and bigger the closer they got.  
Pulling the reins to stop Roach, the Witcher got off his faithful animal, petting it gently to thank her for her deed, before following Regis and copying his actions of tying their mounts to the fence around the shack, that looked like it hasn’t been maintained in a while.  
“Well. Let’s see what’s inside.”

 

He was met with stagnant air and a still smouldering fireplace on the ground across the bed. The ’bed’ was more of a rack that has been stacked with several pieces of fur, acting as a mattress and the cover at the same time. Next to the bed was a vast chest, yet ajar.  
A glance at the inside, Geralt figured that it was stuffed with various kinds of armour and equipment. Leaning against the trunk, swords were placed in a row, one after the other.  
“Impressive collection.”  
Nodding to what his friend said, Regis also looked around the interior of the shack.  
“By the looks of what we have encountered, this must belong to the Witcher. The question arises of when he will return.”  
Geralt turned to the Vampire, nodding towards the door, signalling to wait outside.  
“Hopefully soon.”


End file.
